


Your Fault

by Duck_Life



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Sad, Suicide, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 03:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12268173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: Stan Uris takes a bath. Mike Hanlon blames himself.





	Your Fault

**I. The Sewers**

“You left me,” Stan screeches in the darkness, and Mike can’t understand how that’s not true. How can he explain that Stan was there one second, and then vanished? The fight with Bowers made everything else feel too loud and too fast and he can’t catch up with the rest of the world. “You brought me to Neibolt and you left me,” Stan says, weeping, bloody bite marks framing his face. “You’re not my friends.”

Mike’s talking before he even realizes what he means to say. “We would never do that to you, no one would ever do that to you,” he promises, hating the way Stan flinches away when Ben goes to hug him. “I’m sorry, Stan,” he says, voice breaking.

“You left me,” Stan says again, eyes searching wildly through the dark. And Mike’s only known him a month or so but he knows, with perfect clarity, he would  _ never _ . He would  _ never _ leave Stan like this, and he tells him. 

“I would never do that to you,” he promises, feeling the dirty water soak through the knees of his jeans.

**II. Mike Hanlon Makes A Phone Call**

“Hello?”

The voice is deeper, older, but Mike knows it. He doesn’t even really need to ask, but he does anyway. “Hi, is this Stanley Uris?”

“That’s me,” Stan says. “Who…?”

“It’s Mike Hanlon,” Mike says delicately, gripping the corner of his desk too tightly. “From Derry.”

He can hear Stan’s sharp little intake of breath on the other end of the line. Then— “Oh.  _ Oh _ . Hey, man, how’ve you…” He trails off, and Mike knows he’s  _ remembering _ , feeling all that time in the sewers cram its way back into his head. “Mike?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, feeling suddenly terribly afraid. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry to have to call you. But… Stan, It’s back. Remember the promise we all made?”

Stan’s voice sounds tinny, like there’s something wrong with the connection. “I remember.”

“Will you come back?” 

Silence. And then, “I promised, didn’t I?” He laughs and something about the sound paints Mike with goosebumps. “Goodbye, Mike.”

An hour after he hangs up, it occurs to Mike that Stan never actually said he would come. 

**III. Mike Hanlon Checks His Twitter**

He follows all the news organizations for their hometowns, as well as a William Denbrough fan Twitter account and the account for Richie’s radio station. In the weeks leading up to making the phone calls, he checked his newsfeed obsessively. 

The day after the calls, he’s scrolling through when he sees the tweet from an Atlanta news account, the article attached. And he feels like his whole body turns to ice.

Mike stares at his computer screen, trying to comprehend that the man he spoke to on the phone just yesterday is dead, that the boy he played chess with as a kid is dead. Outside, those birds Stan loved so much caw and squawk and Mike can hear them saying,  _ Your fault, your fault, your fault. _

**IV. The Sewers Again**

Bill is somewhere behind him around the bend in the pipes, Mike knows this, just as he knows that the  _ thing _ rising from the muck and slime in front of him cannot possibly be who he thinks it is, cannot be anything other than another mind trick.

In the dim light of Mike’s flashlight, Stan Uris smiles at him. 

It isn’t Stan the way he’d look today

( _ dead _ )

but the way he looked 27 years ago, with fresh wounds bracketing his face where the woman with the flute attacked him. “I read your journal,” Stan says, sounding young and wry as ever. Mike wants to back away but his legs feel like lead. “You said you knew calling all of us might kill some of us… so why’d you do it?”

Mike feels a pang rock through him. “Stan, I’m so sorry,” he says. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You knew it would happen,” Stan insists, not angry, not accusing, just stating a fact. “You knew I was going to kill myself, Mike, but you called me anyway.” And now Mike sees the other wounds, the slashes down the lengths of his forearms crossed at the wrists like capital Ts. “You as good as killed me yourself, you know.”

“No,” Mike says, and if the thing beneath Derry wants him afraid, It’s got what It wants. He’s horrified, devastated. “No, Stan… Stan, I would never do that to you.” 


End file.
